Everything had happened so quickly, Neyira had barely gotten any time to retaliate.
One moment it was all serene (as serene as it could be in such a place); the Scourge were on one end of their battlefield, while the Argent Crusade and the adventurers were on the other. Then suddenly, as if driven by some misguided urge, Lethean and Ian had both turned as one and charged Darren, Oliver, Grimgor and herself, weapons poised. Ian had struck Darren with a vicious knee to the ribs, knocking the mage back and the breath out of him with a whoosh. As he hit the ground, Ian turned to her, his sword raised. She could already feel and see the dark, manipulated frost magic converging around him. Damn, she thought to herself. She raised her twin runeblades as Lethean chased Oliver into a nearby corpse of trees and shrubbery. Grimgor himself was muttering obscenities, chasing after the two and disappearing into the bushes with them.
Snarling and realizing there was nothing she could do, she faced Ian. "Eventually you fools will realize your persistence will be your end!" She drew upon the energies of her runeblades, creating a blast of frigid, howling winds. The winds carried razor-sharp shards of ice that pierced Ian's cold, dead skin as the wind struck him. Satisfied he would be distracted, she charged him and spun, delivering a vicious strike to his left thigh. She felt blood spurt from the wound, and grinned fiercely beneath her helm. Let's see you fight me wth that.

Lethean was like a ferocious panther, chasing his prey into the dense foilage. Shadowfrost gleamed with light, dried blood still clinging to the rune-inscribed blade of ebony. Lethean chopped his way into the thick, dead brush. Where is the little bastard... His eyes flared brightly as they scanned his surroundings, but he found no sight of the forsaken who carried his dagger.
"Come out, come out wherever you are... " He heard a branch snap, and his twitched as he listened intently. Nothing...

The power from the dagger was almost too much to bear. It felt as though all of Oliver's essence was being sapped into a lifeless void. But the power... a price he had to pay for using a rune weapon. He was able to dive into the thicket before Lethean was near and had an instant to hide his presence. This damned dagger is going to lead him straight to me! Well, if he wants it back so badly he can have it.... in his back. Oliver quickly scaled a low branch as his potion's power wan beginning to wane.

Lethean crashed into the foliage like a beast in pursuit of their next meal. He thrashed about in a small vined bush and with a single slice of his sword decimated the bush. There was something off about him though. He was reckless... Oliver knew that in his current state he would have a chance... a slight chance of landing a decisive blow. Oliver dug into his satchel and grabbed a bright green poison he had been saving for some time. I don't know the affects of poison on a death knight but what better time than the present to find out! Oliver quickly coated the dagger with the dangerous substance and noticed the dagger begin to pulse violently. It was as if the dagger was attempting to reject the concoction. If only I could keep such a weapon. So many experiments so little time I guess...

Lethean looked up instantly and waited. He must've heard something Oliver reasoned. He then noticed an almost naked drunken dwarf through the dense woods. Lethean noticed too and with a fury like no other turned away from Oliver and began to charge. The drunk! He may have just saved my life. Judging by his... lack of attire he seems to do that a lot. As Lethean ran by Oliver's hiding spot and the last bit of Oliver's potion wore off, Oliver threw the dagger and hoped against all hope to at least scathe their adversary. The dagger flew through the air spinning rapidly. The trajectory was off and Lethean was going to run by unharmed when the death knight made a small hop jumping over a bush in order to close the distance more quickly. The small adjustment was exactly what was needed to put him in the blade's path and it penetrated the armor in the center of his back. I hope that will do something.....

Mad dwarf rushed inside bushes with little care. He was making a lot of noise and definitely telling his place to whoever that would listen. His vision was blurry and he could only see darkened color of bushes around him. Then, a moment later, he heard a noise and ducked totally by instinctual reflexes. Huge runed sword of the death knight flew inches above his head and cut the bushes in two. Although Lethean found him, he did not look satisfied so obviously Grimgor was not who he was looking for. Grimgor looked him right in the eye as there were merely a few steps between them, and he could feel the damp-dark energies emanating from him. There were little Grimgor could do at that moment, so in a shock he froze there a second. Lethean's eyes fixed on his looks and without hesitation he started his second swing that would be the doom of the young priest.

All of a sudden, Lethean's swing stopped. He froze, his eyes widened, and looked at Grimgor like he was in utter pain. Grimgor did not understand what was happening and he did not try to understand neither. In that split second he saw the Ian's glancing blow's wound that was still open, and moved forward in an agile manner, his Jambiya grasped tightly in his left hand, and he thrusted the light-blessed blade forward, right where the wound was. He kept his eyes fixed in Lethean's, and his inner-self was amazed how he felt no compassion or respect against the man he was trying to murder. Ian's fall traversed in his mind at light-speed, and his agony engulfed him into bloodlust again. This time, he would not hesitate, he would not stay his arms, because under the toxication of alcohol and morale shocks of what transpired in that day, he thereby felt more like a dwarven berserker than a brother of Stormwind's cathedral.

"You wench", Ian snarled. As blood seeped out of his wound, he knew the wound was grave but played it off. "I died earlier today in case you missed the memo, it is going to take more than that to stop me." Ian focused his thoughts and launched a tendril out and grabbed a corpse of fallen crusader bringing him to his side. "RISE!" Ian commanded and the fallen crusaders eyes let up. He than placed a hand on his shoulder and drew unholy energies from the fresh ghoul. He sent the weakened ghoul at her, knowing that it would be cut down.

Neyira was just as skilled as Lethean, and it was time to play a little dirty. Ian scooped up a handle full of dirt up in his hand and followed suit behind the ghoul. Once she made her move to dispatch the ghoul Ian launched the handful of the gods know what into her eyes. Once she was disoriented he got low and swept her legs out from under her. He followed her to the ground with a fist covered in a layer of black ice delivering a crushing blow to her abdominal region. "I am done being mocked for one day, I am Ian Black formerly known as the blade without direction, now..." Ian pushed his fist down a little harder into her stomach " You will know my WRATH!"

((Well, considering Lethean has his own dagger in his back, Neyira is having the life squished out of her and Darren's ribs are busted. Also, we have a frostwyrm and another death knight (temporary characters for this RP) tagging a long with the Scourge now. Not too sure. Maybe we can pretend that the fight never took place. Oliver has Lethean's dagger, Darced forced him and the rest to leave without it, where they are now at Tyr's hand. The adventurers mount up and go, which brings us to your post?))

((I am down with Mexy's plan through the power of plot, we fell back and now are mounting a fresh offensive at Tyr's hand. I personally I would enjoy it for the fact that I could develop Ian as a death knight a little more and perhaps get him all death knighted out for lack of better words, instead of being so fresh. I am in favor of just saying the last little melee happened but immediately after the higher ups forced us back. Just my thoughts though. Don't want to see this one fizzle out.))

((If we can just resolve Lethean's two new knife wounds, from an evil blade and a holy blade [so much potential], and find a way for Ian to be forced back I think it would be appropriate. Meng just made his character go bat shit crazy [which gives a whole new dimension to his character I believe] and make a huge play but if we resolve those two little scenarios really quickly I think it will feel good. I am definitely ready to leave this place though lol.))

((Sorry if I haven't replied for a while. I've been busy with homework, and today's my birthday so I'll be gone today as well. I'll try and get a reply out tomorrow, as soon as Darced comes up with a plan to reconfigure how the past... half-hour/hour in-RP went? ;3))

((Sorry I haven't posted and that I've messed the RP up. I've been so busy with internship reels and finals. I kind of like Dangelos final options where I take back my last post and you guys finish your fight. An ending then transition would be nice. I'll delete the last post and save it for later, again sorry I "derailed" the RP. I'm usually not that careless.))

(( You dont need to be sorry man, i never meant to say you messed stuff up. I just felt that i could not just tie my current situation to your post, so as a newbie i simply asked for advice to what to do. You have done a great job so far so no need to apology, just tell us what to do, if you want me to delete my post that is also okay for me (though i agree with dangelo that it has so much potential), you are the 'dungeon master' after all ))

((I appreciate the praise, but I really think you guys should proceed with the fight. Not because I'm trying to rush anything, but if we stay on the same spot for too long RPs tend to die. So, you guys have fun and I'll transition when everyone is ready.))

Aldean rushed headlong across the field and towards Lethean, "Gringor! I'm coming!" A death knight desperately tried to impede his path but was cut down by the man in white. "Go friend, help the dwarf! The death knight knows the key!" Aldean slightly nodded as he thrust himself over the fresh corpse that now surely swooned in irony. He dashed past abominations and ghouls, past geists and skeletons. He finally arrived and jumped towards Lethean, the strange elf death knight. They collided and fell to the ground. Aldean looked into the elvish eyes, now traversed by a sanguine cyan, a pit of light blue that was reminiscent of Northrend's heart. "You should have stayed home, death knight!"

Darced continued to observe, patiently waiting for the opportune moment, to strike, to flee, to watch. He mumbled stratagems in his head and reviewed incantations. "Fear not, death knight. Aldean of the Grey is weak, strike him onto his right arm, he will falter..." He floated silently as the message was sure to be received. "If I cannot have the paladin, then perhaps his kin?"

The man in white began to channel a holy spell. By the Light, aid me in purging these dreaded demons. Give me the power to wipe this land of them!" His hands contact the ground causing a massive blast of white light. Knocking many of the Scourge back, the adventurers by his side however were healed for a small amount, enough to recover from cuts and scrapes. "You monsters will not take us! We are back by the holy Light!" Certain of that, are we? The man's eyes widened as the thought past through his mind, like a worm burrowing throughout a grave. I must hurry, he comes. My soon to be master comes!

(( Mexy, i think you should re-read previous 2-3 posts and pose Lethean and Neyira accordingly. We did not cancel the previous melee if you went for that. At least that is what i made up after reading your last post. ))

Lethean stumbled as something struck him in the back. For an instant he stood there, Shadowfrost held in limp, gauntleted fingers, confusion on his pale face. Everything seemed to slow around him as he reached for his back with his left hand, wrapping it around the hilt of his own dagger, buried deep in his back.
Lethean blinked a few times, then snarled, ripping his dagger out of his back. He bit back the cry of agony that wanted to tear itself from his throat, and dropped the small, rune-inscribed blade. He turned slowly, forgetting about Grimgor, and his dark gaze stopped on the Forsaken alchemist who stood, still partially empowered from the unholy energies he had drunk in.
His lips curled in a snarl, his eyes flaring as brightly as the runes inscribed along Shadowfrost's length. He could sense that Grimgor was preparing to strike and spun, his left hand lined with dark green energy. His hand shot out, palm open, and the bolt of energy struck Grimgor, transferring some of the dwarf's life force to the sin'dorei. Satisfied that the dwarf would be paused for a moment, he turned and grasped Shadowfrost with both hands, narrowing his eyes.
"You've made a terrible, terrible mistake, forsaken," the blood elf growled. He sensed another presence crash through the dead foilage behind him and felt Zyraneth's mind touch his.Your wound is not serious, Darkfury, the draenei said, projecting his words into thoughts that seemed to penetrate Lethean's own consciousness. Deal with the undead. I will take care of the dwarf and the Grey. Let neither of them distract you. I have sent Cyragos off to accomplish another task that he had brought to my attention moments ago.
Not looking behind him, Lethean prepared to charge. What of Neyira?Ian seems to be handling that one efficiently enough. Worry about little else; take care of the alchemist.
Lethean nodded to himself and growled, starting towards Oliver. "You find it funny? Stick a dagger in my back. Bravo. I wonder what Shadowfrost will look like, protruding from your back."

Darren watched Neyira deliver a vicious strike to Ian's thigh, and for a moment he felt hope rise within him. She can do it, she has him now. He felt that hope shatter into pieces as the death knight tossed a handful of dirt at Neyira's face, distracting her. In that lapse of focus, he tripped her and slammed his fist - the very fist that held his blade - into her gut. He crushed her into the ground, using all of his unholy might to put more and more pressure onto Neyira's stomach.Damn it! His resources were already sufficiently drained, his face covered in droplets of sweat, his hair matted and the breath coming out of him in short gasps. I can't keep this up for much longer. He reached deep within him, pulling forth as much energy as he could scrape up. He brought it forth, eyes closed, and fire snapped and crackled to life in his hands, snaking up his arms. He felt the extreme heat, but he knew the fire would scorch neither his clothes nor his flesh. He brought both hands together, summoning a massive fireball in front of him. He pushed his hands forward, releasing the massive fireball from his grasp and collapsing to his knees in exhaustion. That's it; that's all I've got.

Neyira tried with everything she had to shove Ian off of her, but the human was physically stronger than her. The strength he possessed as he shoved his fist into her stomach was unfathomable. She coughed, feeling bones begin to crack beneath his might -
AN explosion rocked them both and sent Ian flying off of her. The sudden release of pressure was pure relief to her, and she began coughing, rolling over onto her side in pain. She could smell charred flesh, sure it was only the scent of Ian's dead body -
She heard Ian chuckle as he stood back up, the flames barely having touched him. Neyira struggled to her feet, runeblades in hand. "Your wrath?" she choked through hoarse coughs. "Your wrath?"
The kaldorei summoned every bit of her powers, generating a devestating blast of frigid winds. This time, instead of shards of ice, she tossed her runeblades into it, effectively creating a whirlwind of razor-sharp swords. She sent it forth towards him, scoopng up a forgotten sword that belonged to one of the fallen Crusaders as she charged towards him. "Now you die!"

The fire ball caught Ian off guard, to say the least. It sent him flying off his opponent. However that seemed to be all it managed to do. "Damn Mage" Ian thought out loud with a chuckle as he rose up.

"Now you die" Ian heard coming from his foe and before he knew it razor sharp wind of swords came at him. The wind pounded him, but he managed to deflect the first rune blade. The second one scored a glancing blow that struck Ian on his left side. He caught his breath in time to parry a blow from the death knight with the random sword she picked up.

"Do not insult me with the child's sword" Ian snarled as his rune blade shattered the top part of the sword. "They just don't make them like they used to". Ian had become harder to stop then death itself. He would have been dead twice over had he remained human, but his hate and sorrow allowed him to push on. He launched a dark tendril at the female death knight and pulled her in delivering a knee to stomach then following it up with a smash from his hilt, intended for her head, but struck her shoulder instead. He saw a nearby crusader bleeding out next to him, the blood perked his senses up. He had never felt a thirst as much as he did then and there but it would have to wait, as he had more pressing matters on his hands.

"The way he looks at you...I know he still cares about you." Ian cold gaze directed right at Neyria. "I don't think he wants me to kill you." Ian sheathed his katana. "Yield, and I will take you alive and allow my Master to pass his judgement on you."

Neyira lay on the dead earth, clutching her stomach in agony. Her breath came out in quick, rapid succession, and she stared at Ian with hate and rage - something she was unaccustomed to. "He . . . might not want you to kill me," she managed. "But . . . he will certainly . . . do much worse things to me . . . if I am tossed towards him, a helpless animal chained . . . for the amusement of you bastards."
Her runeblades were behind Ian, unharmed but out of her reach. The sword she'd retrieved from the dead Crusader had been shattered by Ian's parrying blow, and her stomach wounds were draining both her energy and her life, quickly. She coughed, droplets of blood splattering her armor, and she struggled to remain conscious. "I would rather . . . die then allow myself to become shackled to you . . . monsters."

Darren watched in horror as, once again, Ian retaliated viciously. He deflected one of Neyira's runeblades, but the second grazed Ian. Nonetheless he countered, summoning unholy magic to pull her to him, followed by a powerful knee delivered to her gut. He could almost hear the bones crack as he struck her in the chest with the hilt of his blade, knocking her to the ground. He couldn't quite make out what words they spoke, nor did he care much.
He knew he had to do something, anything, to stop Ian, but he could summon no more magic for now. Sweat poured down his face, and his limbs felt as if they were made of lead. He rose to his feet shakily, clenching his hands into fists. There's got to be something I can do . . . something . . .